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<title>i lost you so now i shall have no one by giant_springtime</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281497">i lost you so now i shall have no one</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/giant_springtime/pseuds/giant_springtime'>giant_springtime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Haphephobia, Loose Canon, Lost Love, M/M, Mental Anguish, Past Relationship(s), Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Star Wars Galactic Empire Era, Touch-Starved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:48:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/giant_springtime/pseuds/giant_springtime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cody has to be pulled away, thrashing and spitting, from a shiny who tries to hold his hand.</p>
<p>He’s really changed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i lost you so now i shall have no one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this started off just as Cody being touch starved, and then I cruelly reminded myself of the inhibitor chips</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Cody has to be pulled away, thrashing and spitting, from a shiny who tries to hold his hand.</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’s really changed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">After being dragged to his quarters, he attempts to calm the bursting swell of his heart. The rolling bile in his stomach. Blue fire in his veins. Gold and white behind his eyelids, a fluorescent glow arcing through the air. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">And that’s really what it is, isn’t it? </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Memories of the things that he lost. The touches that he lost. How his brothers in the 212th would pile all their blankets and pillows on the floor of the barracks, whispering and laughing and cuddling on the rare nights that they didn’t have a campaign the next morning.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It’s the war that’s made him like this. That’s all it is. Left him bruised and broken and sensitive and raw, unwilling to let anyone close because all anyone ever seemed to do around him is leave. Leave or die. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He strips his armor off, tossing it carelessly beneath his cot, hands making quick work. He never scrubs his gear anymore.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Not that he needs to.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It’s all so white. Glaring, blinding. Like snowfall on a sunny day. Hot off the press.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The heads had made it very clear- if they touched their armor, they were toast. The days of old, of color and markings and life, were just that. Old. Easily replaced. Swiped over with a coat of paint, a buzz of shears, and a scan. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">No one calls him Cody anymore. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’s just a designation. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"><span class="s2">He groans into his arm, stifling the sound and hopefully the rush of emotion that’s bound to come with it. As if it had ever stopped them before. </span><br/><br/>A new altercation, freshly branded on his mind. An old feeling, a familiar feeling, of fingers slipping between his own. Except, no. No, no. It was wrong. So utterly wrong, too white, too foreign. Hot flame licked up and down his arm at the contact and he broke. The shiny he snapped at, cowering away before being led off by another, newly distrustful of their commander. All over a joke, a tease.</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Or, a reaching out. A cry for help. Fear.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’d knocked the shiny’s hand away hard enough that his glove flew off, roaring from beneath his helmet-</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <em><span class="s2">“</span><span class="s3">Don’t touch</span> <span class="s3"> me</span><span class="s3">!</span></em>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>”</em>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Cody whispers the words to himself now, alone in his room. He squeezes his eyes closed tight, flopping face first onto his cot, burying his body under the thin blanket. He tries to unclench his jaw, but fails.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">They don’t understand. The new ones. They don’t. The Clone Wars are long gone, and even though they were thrust right away into another conflict of its kind, it can never compare. The shinies won’t have to live with the memories like he does. Dying civilians. Dying brothers. Dying Generals- </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Cody screams, guttural, into his trooper-mandated pillow, writhing in his bunk. A bright blue lightsaber, so odd now, burns in his mind. Tan robes, auburn hair. A blaster bolt, a lake below. Down, down, down, down...</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <em> <span class="s3">I did it, I killed him, I watched him fall. I followed my orders, like a good soldier. I did what I had to. He was a traitor, he betrayed us, he hurt us- </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The same loop, over and over, into long hours of the night and from the wee dawn of the morning. He should be used to it by now. He shouldn’t <em>have it</em> by now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">But always, another feeling, right below. Scratching at his temple like a caged bird, twittering into his ear with song. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <em> <span class="s3">Our general. Ours. He protected us. He held us. Ours. Mine-</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">And Cody killed him. Cody killed their Jedi. He watched him fall. Followed his orders, even when his mind screamed for him to stop. He was the most treasonous of them all, raising a blaster to their savior. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <em> <span class="s3">I am a traitor, I betrayed him, I hurt him- </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The only man without Fett blood to ever lay hands on him, so different from the touch of his brothers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">His Jedi was reverent. Rough and firm and soft and gentle mingled on his hands like the magic within his veins. He held Cody long enough that nightmares would disappear and never return. Wipe dirt off his forehead, whisper into his ear, puff warm air over his lips.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">And Cody would reach back, fingers brushing on the battlefield, hands clasping on the bridge, feet nudging under blankets. Listening and nodding with a head in his lap, blue eyes tired and droopy from long missions undercover, from long council meetings, from long talks with the Padawans. Tight hugs whenever the General asked, whenever he wanted, even armored and bloody in enemy airspace. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">And that’s really what it is, isn’t it? </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He never wants anyone to touch him again. Lest they go and betray him- <em>no</em>. Lest he go and betray them. </span>
</p>
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